Unable to Resist

by Cassie Graham

  “Why the hell did we buy this thing?” She points to the coffee grinder. “I hate this,” she slaps it, “little bitch.”

  I duck my head to hide my amusement.

  She mutters more curses under her breath, causing me to think twice about laughing at her. The woman has somehow managed to acquire a throwing arm, and I wouldn’t put it past her to throw something at me. The kitchen houses way too many deadly objects easily at her disposal.

  Curling my legs underneath me, the shower turns on upstairs and a smile slips onto my face knowing that Duane is naked. In my bathroom. Thinking of me. I bury my face into my body slightly to avoid confrontation about my obvious happiness.

  The grinding stops and Liv clumsily pours the coffee in the maker. The aroma of french vanilla drifts through the air, and Liv hums, seeming soothed by the caffeine already.

  “Feeling better, yet?” I ask, not wanting to piss her off too much, but hoping to grind her gears just a bit. Because, you know what? I have every right to.

  She sits next to me on the couch and grabs a pillow. Tossing it on my legs, she slowly lowers her body, looking up at me from my lap.

  We’ve always had this sort of relationship. She’s more like a sister than a friend. We seek support in each other, even if I did hide my previous life. It’s no surprise she’s hoping to find comfort in me.

  She’s slightly damp from sweat, and I feel her head with the back of my hand.

  “Shit, Liv. What’s wrong?” I turn her face to look right at me. “You’re burning up.”

  She wipes her eyes. “I drank way more than I should have last night.”

  “How much?” I push.

  She sifts again, curling into a ball. “I’d say half way through our second bottle of vodka was more than enough.”

  I recoil. Vodka is not my drink. “Holy hell, Liv.”

  She sighs and rubs her eyes. “I know, I know, but Aiden and I were having so much fun, I didn’t realize the cocktail girl kept refilling my glass.”

  “How’s Aiden?” I ask. Recalling he didn’t answer the phone earlier, I assume he has to be hurting too.

  “That’s the thing!” She shouts, immediately regretting it, and covering her head again. “Fuck, that hurt. The ass is fine. He was passed out after I left this morning.”

  “So you stayed the night, huh?” I ask, my eyes dancing with suggestion.

  She covers her smiling mouth. “Yeah. He’s amazing, Ann. A perfect gentleman. He asked me to come home with him and, the dirty slut I am, I figured he wanted to have sex.” She stops, obtaining a goofy grin. “Nope—he made me toast, and we went to bed.”

  Liv’s dreamy stare makes my heart skip and I’m genuinely happy for her. “So just sleep, huh?”

  Liv looks down and blushes. Blushes! I don’t believe I’m seeing this. She never gets mushy over a man. They always come and go, with none of them staying for too long. Maybe a week, tops. It’s how she has always liked it—her heart was safer that way. At least that’s what she would tell me, but I can see the lifestyle taking its toll on her. She likes to play strong and act tough, but Liv is a softie. She just never met the man to break her shell. Maybe Aiden could be that man.

  “We kissed—a lot,” she touches her lips with her fingers, seeming to still feel Aiden, “and we cuddled. It was,” she looks up in my eyes, “it was nice.”

  My face lights up and we squeal. “Are you going to see him again?” I ask, playing with the ends of her hair.

  She nods her head enthusiastically. “Yeah, this weekend. He’s taking me to that restaurant on Main, the one with the live band that’s opening for Blake Shelton.”

  “Oh, Chords!” I remember hearing about that place on the radio a few days ago. It just opened up and has caught a lot of buzz for the performers it pulls in. “That sounds like so much fun,” I add.

  “Yeah.” The shower shuts off up stairs, and her eyes travel upward. “How was your night?”

  I exhale happily. “Flawless. Unbelievable. Totally amazing. You choose.”

  Liv titters. “That’s great, Ann. He seems to really like you. He looks at you,” she stops to think, “like the sun rises and sets in your eyes. I know it’s an overused statement, but it’s true. He’s in deep, you noob. You ready?”

  “You really think so?” I ask, timid to talk about the idea.

  She pffts. “Without a doubt. It’s not easy to miss.”

  “And what do you mean, am I ready? Ready for what?”

  “For the future,” she states, simply. “You love him, don’t you?”

  My head snaps to the stairs, and I shush her, hoping Duane can’t hear. “Dammit, Liv, keep your voice down.”

  She sits up, the color coming back to her face. She looks better and lifts her body from the cushions. Mocking me, she lowers her voice. “Oh shut up, he loves you too.”

  My jaw drops. How can she tell so confidently?

  “You’ll see.” With that, she heads to the kitchen, fills up her coffee cup and goes up stairs.

  Could he really love me?

  Yes, you idiot. He’s capable of loving. It’s you who has a hard time letting go of the past. You’re worthy of his love.

  I’ve had a hard time accepting any sort of love since Kyle and Dad died. In a way, I always worried maybe my love broke them—that I was cursed. I thought my love hurt people.

  Even Liv, in the beginning, had a hard time getting me to open up about anything more serious than what flavor cupcake I wanted displayed that day. Luckily, like the saint she claims to be, she took her time, broke my walls down and forcefully shoved love in my heart. It seemed a little easier to let Mia in after that. She was kind and sweet. Besides, I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter, and I’m glad for that. They are my family.

  Liv and Mia were easy, though, in retrospect. I’d never once opened up for a guy in recent years.

  Opening up my heart to a man meant one of two things. One: I could fall in love with him and then lose him because my life just might possibly suck that bad, or two: he’d break me. I never knew which was worse, and I still don’t, actually. Hearing that even Liv sees Duane could possibly love me makes me soar with happiness and, at the same time, want to crawl into a cave and never come out.

  I’m scared. Both options are unacceptable in this case.

  Duane’s heavy footsteps travel down the stairs, pulling my attention away from my nervousness.

  Freshly shaven and clean, he glows. He’s dressed in a suit that makes my body ache for his touch. Pressed, his dark blue sports jacket looks almost black, and his pants fit him almost too well. They were made for a body like Duane’s. The black, button-down shirt underneath makes his features smolder more so than before. I feel the need to keep him trapped in the house so no one else gets the pleasure of looking at him.

  “Hey, beautiful, I’m going to head out.” He points to the door. “I have a ton of work today, but tomorrow is Friday,”

  I give him a no shit look and he smirks.

  “Right, you already knew that. Anyway, I want to take you out.”

  I get up from the couch, and walk to him. Standing with his bag slung over his shoulder, I grab the strap, dropping it to the ground, and pull him into me. He grunts in surprise. Bringing my mouth to his, he doesn’t waver. His arms circle around me and I claw my way down his back.

  Here we are, again, in a state of bliss that only appears when we join together. I tend to forget what it’s like being in his presence, even for the shortest of absences. I forget how perfect—and easy it is to be with him.

  Breaking away from the kiss, I attempt to slow my ragged breathing. Duane’s eyes are dark, his special shade of lust, and my body hums.

  “Going out sounds amazing. What do you have in mind?” I ask.

  Shaking his head, he puts his finger on my lips. “Sorry, fair lady, but that’s classified information. Strictly on a need-to-know basis.”

  My face falls. “What?! I need to know,” I complain.r />
  He brings me into his embrace, burying his face into my neck. “No, you don’t.”

  I can’t help the effect he has on me. His scent engulfs me and I melt. “Okay, then.” I’m such an easy pushover when it comes to him.

  “Be ready by eight, and wear something fun,” he suggests.

  Huh?

  “Fun? What the heck does that mean, Cowboy?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. You know—be comfortable, but fun. I don’t want to give anything away. Talk to Liv.”

  Liv? What the heck would she know about where we’re going? I decide to let it go, and kiss his cheek. “Have a good day, baby.” I coo.

  Taking my face in both of his firm hands, he kisses me sweetly, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Miss me,” he jokingly demands.

  I bite the tip of his thumb and smile. “Always.”

  His eyes light up; turning a brilliant shade of green I will never get enough of.

  “Forever, Red,” he chimes.

  My heart roughly thuds in my chest. It worries me that it might expand so big it’ll burst in to pieces. He hugs me one last time, picks up his bag and heads for the door. I back up a few steps, letting my thighs hit the back of the couch, giving me some space. I really want to keep him here for myself. Stopping at the threshold, he turns around, dragging his hand through his messy hair. He opens his mouth, his eyes struggling, but doesn’t say anything. Opening and shutting his mouth again, he can’t seem to form words.

  “You okay?” I ask, taking a step toward him.

  Pulling his hand from his hair, it moves to his mouth and his index finger plays with his bottom lip, coyly.

  He’s plotting something. It makes me antsy.

  “I’m perfect, Red. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

  I don’t quite know how to feel, but I wave my hand. “Tomorrow.”

  He smiles and slips through the doorway without another glance.

  Thursday goes off without a hiccup. Well, kind of. Liv nurses her hangover all day and I contemplate Duane’s odd exit. He texts me throughout the day, most of them sweet, of course. Others are enough to make me blush, or combust. My Cowboy is dirty.

  I find myself hiding smiles and flushed cheeks from customers. Otherwise I’d look like the namesake Liv so graciously bestowed upon me—noob. I feel like a damn noob.

  It’s getting more and more difficult to concentrate on normal tasks. I usually go through my routine with little to no mishaps. That’s usually Liv’s area of expertise. She’d punch me if I said that out loud, but it’s true. The girl can’t go a day without dropping or tripping over something.

  But today, I can’t even fill the espresso machine correctly. I’ve dropped a whole tray of cupcakes and then proceeded to smack my head on the counter when I bent to pick them up.

  “Holy hell, are you alright?” Liv asks as she skids to a halt in front of me and my mess.

  My arms flail in front of me. “I’m fine. My head’s not in it today. I’ll get it together eventually.”

  It didn’t happen.

  So maybe there were a few hitches.

  Friday wasn’t much better. Liv kept shooting knowing glances at me all day, and it drove me nearly mad. I distinctly got the impression she was in on what was going on tonight and it made me anxious. Liv’s never been good at keeping secrets and my so-called best friend wouldn’t give me any inkling as to what she was planning with Duane. It was infuriating to say the least.

  I only spilt one cup of coffee by the end of the day, so I’d say it was a win for the most part.

  Later that evening, while getting ready, Liv looks over at me in the bathroom mirror and her eyes begin to water.

  “I love you, you know that? I know you’ve had a hard go of things in the past years,” she sighs, letting the weight of my past take over her, “but you are an amazing person. Beautiful and silly. Funny and serious. You are all these great things, and I hope you realize it.”

  I put my eyeliner down, and give her a quizzical look. “What’s this all about?” My heart is warm from her words, but it’s so unlike her to be so mushy.

  She sets her mascara on the counter, and hops up. “I know,” she starts and trails off, “I know you feel like you don’t deserve love. I know your past has messed with your head but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you.”

  A tear escapes my eye and I wipe it away. “I know you love me, Liv. I love you, too.”

  She swipes at her own tears. “I know you love me, too, you noob, but things didn’t quite click until you told us about what happened with Kyle and—the baby.”

  I cross my arms. “What do you mean?”

  She grabs my hand and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “I never really understood why you stayed away from men. I just figured you were shy or maybe you were a lesbian.”

  She laughs and I roll my eyes, but smile despite myself.

  “There would be times,” she continues, “when a guy would hit on you and you’d instantly retreat into yourself, never fully interacting with them. You’d even do that with customers. I don’t think you realized it, but knowing the hell you went through, it all makes sense now.” She squeezes my hand again. “You are worthy. You are meant to love, and to be loved. Mia and I both adore you. It’s time to start believing in yourself.”

  Tears are flowing freely down my face now, but I smile and offer her a half laugh. “Thank you so much for being my best friend, Liv,” I say as I hurl myself into her arms.

  She grunts and wraps her arms around me. “You aren’t my friend, Ann. You’re my sister, and you’ve always been.”

  I swipe at my face again and nod. “I know. I just—I love you. You don’t know how much you’ve helped me throughout the years. You may not have known my reasoning for being the way I was, but you were always there. You were my rock. I can’t thank you enough.”

  She lets me go, reaching for tissues to blow her nose. “Yeah, well,” she brushes off my compliments in typical Liv fashion, “enough of that. Let’s finish getting ready.”

  Smoothing my hands down my electric blue, silk peplum top, I assess myself in the mirror. My black skinny jeans show off my hourglass hips and hug my thighs like a glove. I decided to straighten my hair, so it hangs down my back in different layers of red. I’ve kept it simple with my makeup; my eyes stand out even more with the blue top and the black mascara makes them pop. With a soft shade of lipstick, and a bit of blush, I look fierce.

  “That top is really working for you,” Liv says next to me.

  In a flowy black tunic and blue skinnys, she looks picturesque. Her bright blonde hair is pinned back in an elaborate twist, and her dark eyes dance with anticipation.

  “Oh! I have amazing shoes that you can borrow,” she says joyfully, then runs to her room.

  I grin into the mirror while applying a couple sprays of perfume.

  “Now, these,” she says, hurling black pumps into my hand, “these will knock him dead.”

  Applying them to both feet, I tower over Liv’s five-foot-four frame. “Ready, dillhole?” I ask.

  Looping her arm through mine, she nods, leading me to the living room. “Yep. Let’s do this.”

  As we exit my bathroom, I stop in my tracks. “Wait.” I look at her. “Where am I going?”

  Duane gave me a vague text earlier today, telling me he’d have a car pick me up at eight, but he didn’t say a word about where the car would be taking me. At the time, I smiled at the fact someone was having a car pick me up. A car. For me. I’m so not the fancy type, but having Duane want to spoil me kind of makes me appreciate that he thinks I like fancy.

  Shut up, you’d love fancy if you had the choice.

  I’ve just never been fancied.

  Liv gives me a look. “I’m not telling you crap, you noob.” The doorbell rings. “That’s your ride. And, for the love of God, have fun.”

  She pinches my ass, and I walk to the door shaking my head, biting down a smile.

  As
the door swings open, I have to blink a few times. The man standing in front of me is dressed in a chauffeur suit, wearing all black—black shirt, black suit jacket and black pants. His slightly-wrinkled, light skin glows under the hall light and his face breaks out into a kind smile when he sees me. Tipping his hat, he grins a white, toothy smile that instantly warms me. Southern hospitality at its finest.

  “Good evening, Ms. Daniels. Mr. Rynard is waiting.” He extends his elbow, and I signal with my index finger, before running to the kitchen to retrieve my purse and keys. Shoving my favorite chapstick in my clutch, I turn and walk to the chauffer with a noticeable bounce in my step.

  Sliding my hand into his open arm. “What’s your name, sir?” I ask in a bubbly tone. I’m so freaking excited.

  He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The name’s Eddie Walker.” He moves down the stairs to the back door.

  My eyes widen when I realize I have no idea how he got inside the building in the first place. He looks at me incredulously.

  “Oh goodness,” he looks down and blushes, “Ms. Liv let me in. She disarmed the alarm and left the door unlocked.” He assures. “You’ve got a good friend there.”

  What is with everyone being able to read my mind? Are my emotions written on my face?

  I decide to let it go and squeeze his arm. “That I do, and no worries. So, where are you taking me, huh?”

  Eddie’s lips twitch. “That, ma’am, is classified,” he attempts with authority.

  Dammit. I do love surprises, which I’m sure Duane knows if he’s talked to Liv, but the anticipation is nearly killer. I groan and step back as Eddie opens the door to the black SUV. Taking his hand, I pull my body into the lifted truck and Eddie closes the door.

  The SUV has tinted windows, and the inside is all plush leather. Two rows of seats face each other on both sides of the truck, and one row is horizontally placed in the back. Up near the front, a bar sits full of ice and wine.

  “Feel free to drink anything back there, Ms. Daniels,” Eddie suggests as he situates himself in the driver’s seat.